Legends of the Keyblade: The Darkness
by ckmono
Summary: A multi chapter interpretation of an earlier part of the Keyblade's history. MAJOR KINGDOM HEARTS I,II, and CoM SPOILERS. Chapter three updated May 19.
1. Prologue

_Blanket Disclaimer: Kingdom Hearts I, II, and Chain of Memories do not belong to me. They belong to Tetsuya Nomura, Square Enix, and all other companies associated with this wonderful project. Thanks to them for bringing us a wonderful fandom to frolic in.** This disclaimer will apply to all chapters of The Darkness.**_

_Halfway through writing this I realized that I also used the idea of a talking journal because I had read Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets--so, thanks to J.K. Rowling for brining that interesting concept into her stories._

**Warning: MAJOR KINGDOM HEARTS I AND II PLOT SPOILERS, RIGHT FROM THE START. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.**

**Author's Notes: **

Well, an attempt (and not the first) at a multi-chaptered story. Fortunately I have laid out a plan, and hopefully that will be all the more motivation to keep this one going. A certain sequence in the ending of Kingdom Hearts II, a plot hole in the game story, and my out-of-control imagination inspired me to write this:

**a possible interpretation, based on the aforementioned two things, about one of the earlier stories of the Keyblade in its history.**

Once again, there will be spoilers **for all of the Kingdom Hearts games.** Read at your own risk.

That being said, the beginning of the story takes place somewhere between **Kingdom Hearts: Chain of Memories** and **Kingdom Hearts II, before the events that leads to the Prologue of Kingdom Hearts II**.

* * *

**_Legends of the Keyblade: The Darkness_**

Riku awakes to a cheap imitation of daylight.

He takes a deep breath, careful to let it out silently. The thin bedroll—barely useful, really—beside him is empty, and his eyes travel to the faint campfire nearby. A short figure sits against a crude, natural wall of rock beside the campfire, unconsciously avoiding the pulsing veins of power in the rock. In the faint, orange-yellow light, Riku meets the figure's gentle smile with one of his half-forced ones.

"You fought hard last night." The figure starts, flipping something in a small pan over the fire.

"So did you." Riku crawled to the fire and made himself comfortable beside the figure. The veins in the rocks pulsed as if in greeting.

"Not as hard as you." The figure passed him some of the food with a praising look.

"Your Majesty, we've gone over this already." Riku grinned as he ate, "We work together, there's no competition."

"And I've gone over this with you as well; none of this 'Your Majesty' polite talks—not in a place where a title like that has no meaning."

"Old habits—or I suppose sense of protocol—die hard," Riku replies as he finishes the simple meal. "Mickey."

The figure's big mouse ears twitch, "Indeed—then you will forgive me for still thinking of you as a fascinating new species of existence sometimes."

Riku smiles, a small, proud smile, "It's not so bad; I like being special." He sobers, "Any sign of them last night?" He asks as the two tidy their camp.

"None." Mickey answers, glancing towards the dark beach, "Apparently Heartless have their times of rest as well."

Riku grunts softly in response, tightening his rucksack.

"There seemed to be a lot more Heartless than usual last night." Mickey comments thoughtfully in the silence. "That is, more than we _usually_ attract wherever we go. And they kept coming."

Riku nods absentmindedly, "There's something about this place. Either that or we're near something someone doesn't want us to find. Neither matters though; it's not safe to stay here. We should go back to Twilight Town for now."

"Perhaps just for a filling-up. Last night's attack left us a bit on the short side for potions and ethers." Mickey agrees.

As the two proceed out the little site, something crunches suddenly under Riku's soft footsteps. Immediately, small pools of darkness bubbled out of the ground, and black creatures with glowing eyes surfaced through its watery thickness.

Riku and Mickey stand, backs against each other, facing the Heartless. In two violent flashes of energy, the Road to Dawn and the Inverted Kingdom Key answer their masters' call. As they shift into a defensive stance, the ground crunches again.

The Heartless whisper and hiss and nod to each other in a nameless language, jerk their heads from side to side, and launched forward as one.

Before Mickey can react, Riku's Keyblade cracks apart in a violent yellow, the flecks reflecting in Riku's confident blue-green eyes. Then the world goes up in a flash.

When Mickey uncovered his eyes from the fight, he found no Heartless and Riku on his knees. Quickly, he digs out a small vial of ether from the pack sewed into his pants.

"There's something in the ground." Riku whispers as Mickey administers the ether. He parted the sandy ground between his feet hastily, "Something the Darkness wants."

"That crunching sound?" Mickey asks as he knelt to help. Riku nodded silently; suddenly, his hand jerks back, pricked by a sharp something protruding from the ground. Leaning down, he scrutinizes it through silver-white hair bangs. "It's a bone." He looks up at Mickey, startled.

The king looks at Riku with uncertainty, "It's someone's grave. Maybe we should leave it alone."

Riku stares at the bones, "You feel it, right? This power, the emotions left behind. Someone fought here for something very important." Riku stands up again, "There's something here we have to know about."

"Would you disturb a grave for its knowledge?" Mickey asks sadly.

Riku stares at the protruding bone, a grim smile on his face. "Your Highness, please go back to town and fill up as you wish." He begins digging gently. "You forget, Mickey; there's not much else I wouldn't do anymore, for myself or for Sora, Kairi, anyone important to me. I will not fall prey to the darkness, because I will know what it hides and offers." He paused, turning his smile to Mickey, "It will be a while before I get back, but I'll be fine."

"I understand." Mickey sighs after one heavy moment. "Take all of this then, since I'm going back." He drops his rucksack on the ground, leaving himself with only a money pouch. Riku nods his thanks. Mickey holds his Keyblade up again, and a bubble of light falls away from the tip. Darkness spreads on the surface of the bubble, swallows it, and bursts into a gapping hole—a rip in space.

Riku watches Mickey disappear into the darkness. He's nice, and maybe he did understand a little, Riku thinks as more bones are exposed under the unnatural daylight. _But this path is really my own._

Riku doesn't know for how long he dug, but he knows it has been several days because of the fragility of the bone—he'd snapped the protruding bone by accident already. He ignored the daylight of this land, and let its darkness flow through him. He manipulated and mastered is powers easily; this is a docile sort of Darkness, one that flows over him effortlessly, carrying away a little bit of himself. A complete skeleton is exposed the day Riku looks into a tidal pool and sees the maniacal red eyes of his enemy bleeding into his blue-green ones. He jerks back, and spends the next day staring at the night-sun of this world. From then on, work went slower to the finish.

On the dawn of the seventh day, Riku pulls the last buried skeletal hand from the ground. It breaks away at the wrist, the hand remaining attached to something metal. Despite ornaments, its familiar basic design strikes him hard. He holds it up, shaking off the excess sand. The rust destroyed the Keyblade's luster, and clings to its Mickey head-shaped Keychain like deadweight. He swings it; nothing. The handle of the weapon glows faintly around his hand. Little pinpoints of light, flicking through the ugly brown-red, make their way torturously toward the handle.

"Show me." Riku whispers to the light, "Show me what keeps you here."

The lights cease to move for a moment; Riku holds it forward casually, and the lights follow his motion, sliding towards the end, spilling out, pulling him along. The golden dust settles upon a rock, congregating around its base in a ring.

"Underneath, is it?" Riku murmurs with a smile, and with little difficulty, topples the stone to one side. In a little ditch underneath, a scroll glows with protective magic, into which the light-points sink.

"You want your story heard." Riku says to the Keyblade, touching it, almost reverently, to the scroll. The thin magic, worn by who knows how long in time, fades away weakly. Tentatively, Riku set the Keyblade down beside him, and reached for the scroll. Gathering it carefully against him, along with the rusted Keyblade, he steals away from the beach.

There's a place in this world, not too far away; a place only he knows, and a place where he will be _safe_—a concept which he finds to be a rare gift. When Mickey comes back, Riku thinks he would probably show the place to him, and show him the scroll he decides he will store there. While DiZ's headquarters might be safe, he does not feel particularly familiar with the fallen King despite all that Mickey had told him about the man. Besides, the man is apparently famous for his hatred and obsession for the Darkness, and Riku is not sure if he would like for DiZ to think of him the way Mickey does sometimes.

He doesn't have many potions or food left, but he's survived alone in worse places, confused and wounded and _defeated_. Here, now, the Darkness is his friend, will suffice in place of light.

In the airy cave, Riku finds fist-sized round nubs growing on the ground, out of a system of tiny roots. For lack of a better word, he calls them "ground berries", and plucks a black one off the branching roots. It is faintly sweet, almost tasteless, but watery and filling as he settles against the rocky wall to read.

"_To the stranger who is stranded—or have you willingly chosen to stay?—greetings to you, sir—or lady, after all, I do not know who will be sparing their precious time to read my words. I am a dying man, fighting against the inevitable to release my friend from madness. I do not know if it will work, but either way I know we shall both die. My bride is gone with what hope remains; I suppose I am grateful to you, stranger, because the fact that you are here reading proves that she lived, and life survived."_

_But if you are here, it also unsettles me. We might never know each other, and I wonder who you are; are you fallen into Darkness, or are theMasters of the Keyblade come to the world in need again? Has much time passed since the writing of this, or is the darkness too strong for the new life? Either way, you are, for now, one who lives in the Darkness. You will want to know how you were brought to this, or, if the cursed darkness I fought survived, where it came from, for all records of such happenings will have been obliterated. To my knowledge, this is the only record of everything that came before you, and to tell the truth, I am pleasantly surprised that it survived to arrive in your hands._

_Because you have these papers, I know that you must be a Master of the Keyblade, like I am. I have not yet introduced myself, though since this is my journal, I think I may be excused in some rambling. I must write to keep myself from breaking, to remind me of who I am._

_If you are not so far gone in the darkness—whether you wield its power or you are fallen to it—to believe in the light, perhaps a little of the power of my heart still remains in these words. I do not know the strength of my own heart, and I doubt anyone will, even a Master of the Keyblade, who supposedly knows the heart most intimately. In any case, I beg of you, write to me. I am neither senile nor insane, but if you are a Keyblade Master, you must know what it feels like to believe in something against everything else. If some of my heart does remain, then perhaps it may converse with you. Show me, if I am still here, for my heart's eyes are closed beneath that rock, what the world has become. Revive me, and tell me what has become of my bride._

_One more burden I must ask you to carry before you begin writing, should you decide to do so. If some of me still remain, then please, take the scroll to where my bride rests in her death. I am quite sure her body, like mine, has become dust and bones, for it cannot have been such a short time since my writing that you are reading this. As a Keyblade Master, you should know the power of the heart and what it drives life to do. My bride's heart I know will not wither away so easily, for she may be watching over what becomes of the world. She is a hard person to understand, given our time together, but if I may assume that she loves me, then surely she remembers my promise to go to her once the fight is done. She and I both know it is an empty promise, but once again, as Keyblade Masters, you are prone to believe in happily ever after's, no matter how childish that sounds._

_I am tired. The veil of magic that I have hung at the cave entrance ripples as the Heartless and Nobodies surge against it. Already, I hear it tearing. It shall not be long now, before the end. I only wish that I could see my bride, and my dearest friend, one more time._

The letter ends, and Riku looks up around the cave interior.

"I've been intruding." He murmurs to himself, "How impolite of me—I should apologize." He fishes around in his rucksack for something to write with, and comes up with the pen he uses in his journal for observations. Standing up, going deeper into the cave, he finds the strange glowing pitcher-plants, hanging from the ceiling in bunches. He settles down beside a particularly large bunch that grew down to his shoulders.

_It appears I am not only at the scene of the drama, that I am about to relive it through you._ Riku writes small in what little space left on the paper, and waits. _For someone who's about to die fighting, you write a little too much, don't you think?_

Miraculously—though a little point in the back of Riku's mind is not surprised at all because the Keyblade and the protective magic of the scroll still worked—the words sink into the paper, and new words appear.

_It is little wonder then, that you write so little, and I can barely hear your voice. _The response came after a few moments, _as for my wordiness, I suppose you may blame two things: my situation, and who I am. My enemies barely gave me a reprieve as we fought, and that was the first, and last. I have many thoughts, but could not find the time to write them down before this. Secondly, given my position, though that barely mattered where I was when I wrote this, I am used to being wordy. That is a bad excuse though, for my father was far less talkative than I am; my bride told me I am prone to waxing poetic. You have told me that you are at the scene of the drama, so I must not be far away from where I died. Tell me, good sir, how much time has passed since my story ended?_

_I don't know, _Riku writes with an amused smile, _and 'good sir'? That makes me sound ten years older._

_Then tell me, how many years are you?_

_Sixteen._

There was a pause, _you are young, for a Keyblade Master—though I suppose that isn't a fair assumption, because I do not know any Masters before myself either._

_My friend is fifteen._

_And he is a Keyblade Master as well?_

_Yes—of the Light._

_And what do you fight for?_

_Both._

Another pause. _The Twilight?_

_No—the Dawn._

Pause. _And you have passed through the night, to arrive at the Dawn._

_Yes. _Riku writes without hesitation.

_You are quick to admit your past wrongs._

_A long time ago I'd do everything I can not to._

_What is your name?_

_Riku. And yours?_

_Elion. I was the last King of Radiant Garden._

Riku pauses, and stares at the words, comprehending their meaning in context of the letter. _You are from the last time. Your world—universe--ended._

_Correct. From the pause in your voice, I think it is most likely that you are shocked, to some degree. Have you traveled much? Perhaps there is another Radiant Garden you have visited, with a new King?_

Riku frowns. So far he'd been unable to give any favorable answers. _Radiant Garden is destroyed by the Heartless, for how long I don't know. Its new name is Hollow Bastion._

_And what of the King?_

_He—I do not know if he can be called 'King' anymore._

There is a long pause before the next words came. _That is sad news indeed. Life has not grown much then, before evil attacked again._

_Or maybe Life got too strong, and let its guard down. _

_Possibly, and in that case we are all quite tragic, for that is what happened to my world. Tell me, Riku, what evil roams your world now?_

_The Heartless. The Nobodies. A man who was called Xehanort was found in Radiant Garden, just remembering his name, by the King. He was taken in, and became a favored disciple of the King, and volunteered himself as a test subject in the King's research of the Darkness of the Heart. The Darkness corrupted him, and eventually he took the King's name and continued the research even though the King told him and his other disciples to stop. He eventually dived into Darkness and became a Heartless, called Ansem—the King's name. He opened the Heart of Radian Garden to the Heartless. He—possessed me, because I had fallen into Darkness. He is destroyed now, thanks to my friend, though the trace of him that remains part of me allows me to be both Light and Dark. The only part of Xehanort left now is his Nobody, Xenmas._

Riku waits for a long time before the words come again. _This is beyond my most terrible fears. I am greatly grieved, for I have failed my dear friend and my bride, as well as my own subjects._

_What is going on? _Riku writes quickly, _You knew Xehanort would do this?_

_I did not know he would be able to do anything—I expected him to die from the blow I dealt him._

_This isn't some crazy dream I'm having, is it?_ Riku writes after reading the line twice.

_I find myself asking the same question since the conversation began. Are you absolutely sure of all you told me?_

_I know someone close to the fallen King. He is the one who told me._

_Then indeed, the power of the heart is incredible._

_You mean Xehanort? Is that why he lost his memory, from the injuries of when you two battled?_

_I do not know why he lost his memories, _the words came slowly, as if in thought, _perhaps by telling my story we can piece out a theory._

_Alright, I'm all ears. Or rather, I'm all eyes._

_I am glad that you are at least humorous, Riku, in a place such as this._

_Well, you aren't so bad yourself, though I know another King who is much more cheerful than you are._

_You certainly have connections. Are you of royal birth yourself?_

Riku wonders how he could write his chuckle into the paper, _No. Just a simple island boy._

_Very well. I suppose I am not surprised, for my dear friend was a commoner._

_The premises are shaping up to a nice fantasy story, _Riku comments. _At least, much more interesting than the premises from which my story started._

_Although it seems that you will be continuing the story. Do you know, that a humanoid Nobody's name is made from the anagram of the original being's name, with an added 'X'?_

_Yes, I knew that._

_Then surely you can comprehend the possibilities in the case of a name like 'Xehanort'?_

Riku knows then, that this is better than any fantasy novel he's ever read, in the small library on Destiny Islands, or in the large archives at Hollow Bastion. _Xehanort was a Nobody? But he had a heart._

_You are correct. He **was** a Nobody, but not when I fought him._

_He went through Kingdom Hearts?_

_No. He did something far more incredible, and in light of what you had told me, perhaps far more terrible. This is where I shall start my story._

**_When he was a whole being, Xehanort was called Narothe, Master of the Twilight Keyblade. He is of Radiant Garden, and is my dearest friend._**

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

And that is the start of a monstrosity of a project. I probably have not fully comprehended the amount of effort I need to put in, but I will try my best if readers like it and want it to continue.

Any questions, comments, and suggestions are welcome and highly appreciated.

ckmono


	2. Chapter One

_Blanket Dislcaimer: Kingdom Hearts I, CoM, and II, do not belong to me. Rights go to SquareEnix and all companies associated with this project. Thanks to them for bringing us a wonderful world of possibilities._

**Author's Notes:**

Here is where the story takes off from all the familiarity of anything in the game and ventures into the unknown territories of my out-of-control imagination. In other words, it is essentially a new 'Kingdom Hearts' story.

Enough of my rambling, for Elion does enough of it in the story. Enjoy, readers.

**Warning: Spoilers for the secret FMV of Kingdom Hearts II.**

* * *

**_Chapter One_**

_My name is Elion, last King of Radiant Garden in a time long past. When my story starts, I am a man of twenty two years, and a prince._

The bell chimes for breakfast, and Elion lowered his weapon. The mouse head-shaped Keychain fell against his leg, and he felt its strength powering the weapon. While a mouse head, he thought, was a rather unusual choice for the heroic weapon of Light, apparently its first Chosen was a King who was such a creature. The Keyblade's origins and early history were muddled though, even in the best of sources, and Elion had yet to come across a Mouse King in the tales he heard from travelers.

"That shall be enough for the morning, Swords master Kantl. Thank you." He bowed formally to the burly man, who waved his hand dismissively.

"Ah, drop your polite front." He rumbled, "I should be the one sucking up to you." He strolled to the sharpening stones, his footfalls light, "At this rate, Prince, you'd wreck every sword I have with that blade."

"I should have your head for such a retort." Elion laughed, "Here we are master and apprentice, not Subject and Prince."

"I am barely your master anymore, with that monster in your hands." Kantl dropped the sword into a small pile of weaponry to be repaired with a good-natured grin.

"This 'monster' is but raw power. I have yet to master it, and you are helping me to do so. So that makes you my master." Elion reasoned.

"Bah, do not play logic games with me. That is your destined power, you'd be able to master it with a blindfold on." Kantl gave him a slight push, full of camaraderie, "Now off to the breakfast hall with you."

"I will see you again then, Master Kantl." The Keyblade vanished in his hands in a burst of light, and Elion turned to exit the practice grounds. On the way, trainee soldiers and guards and maids stopped to give their respects, and Elion acknowledged almost every single one.

The castle was magnificent, a place of the old traditions and the new technological advances melded together in a perfect representation of the Kingdom of Radiant Garden. In the distance, away from the castle's well-preserved stone walls, stood the scientific research complex that Elion frequented both in his studies and in his spare time.

Breakfast was usually a chatty affair, though the Royal Family kept mostly to themselves at the head of the table. Elion found it much more interesting this way; from his spot beside his father, he could _observe_. There was the group of ladies at the end of the table, gossiping as usual—no doubt about that knight and that lady sitting up near the front, discreetly flirting. Occasionally, he caught sight of a few bags of coins passing hands, or the expression of a man who wanted to murder the one across from him because the other had threatened his weak point using polite innuendos. The servants rushed here and there, almost gliding down the hall and winding expertly around a nobleman who did not watch to see when he should push away his chair to stand up. The plates of food and drinks and dessert and used dishes slid on the tilting platter the servants carried as they avoided the obstacle, and then shifted back perfectly without spilling a single drop on the oblivious nobleman.

This was not orderly; in fact, it was sort of messy, especially the way some of the people ate, or when one of the young people like himself newly initiated into the table got too excited, and knocked over a goblet or two. But it was endearing in a way, and Elion's lips quirked in a small smile.

"Your majesty." A page bounded through one of the side doors near the head of the table, stopping only for a hasty bow. He whispered something in the King's ear with a dark expression on his face. The King's posture stiffened. He nodded, and dismissed the messenger.

"Father, what—" Elion laid a gentle hand on the King's shoulder, "Is it an attack?"

The King nodded grimly, "And early in the morning too. The Darkness has grown blatantly strong."

"Sit, father." Elion pushed down when the King tried to stand. "I will teach this arrogant Darkness to fear the Light." He smiled reassuringly at the King's apprehensive expression, "Besides, this is good experience for me, and the Royal Guard will protect me should the tides turn unexpectedly."

The King nodded, and Elion excused himself quietly from the hall. Making his way quickly to the room—_the castle is magnificent, though at times like these I wished it might magically shrink_—and grabbed the Keyblade from its customary stand. Itwas mostly gold, save for the steel of the handle. The width of the weapons' body was almost as wide as the handle, the standard bar flanked by two thick blades. The head of the Keyblade branched out both ways five times, four of them straight, the fifth being a crescent with blunt ends. This Keyblade he held in his right hand.

He descended the stairs to the main courtyard, where he found a groom ready with his horse. A captain steered his own beside Elion as he approached his mount.

"The King has told us; we are glad, as usual, to have you with us, my prince."

Elion smiled back at the captain as he swung himself into the saddle with ease. The soldiers formed ranks, with Elion at the center-lead position. Around him, horses shifted restlessly, and foot soldiers brandished their weapons.

_There was something in the air as I took a deep breath, and deemed it a particularly good day for a battle. I had no doubt that, despite having been briefed that it was quite a large invasion, we would rout them._ Thrusting his left hand out in front of him, he drew the Kingdom Key out of the air in a bolt of light. Lifting both his weapons up, he crossed them in the morning sun.

A hundred and more Keyblades followed suit, some in pairs and some in singles. The castle gates opened, and the Keyblade Army moved out, already submerged in the rush of fighting the Darkness once more.

---

_The invasion was indeed worse than the others that came before. The Heartless had already taken the periphery area and are moving fast towards the outskirts of the main city itself. I commanded my army to split into groups of roughly ten, with at least two healer Keyblades in each. We would spread out, and try to hold back their advance first. As we prepared to leave, I felt suddenly a wave of power surge through me, as if announcing its presence. It was a new power, but a very familiar one to me. Quickly, I determined the direction of the source, and switched the group placements so that the group I led would ride to that area. The captain who was originally responsible must have been quite confused at my sudden change of mind, for that area was not where the Heartless were concentrated—I usually preferred that. I do not think I ever explained to him the reasoning behind my decision._

The captain nodded anyways, though the curiosity in his eyes did not fade away.

"There is something I must make sure of there," Elion clapped the captain's shoulders. "And if I am correct, then today's invasion may in fact be a gift instead of a curse. But no more of that, we must move, quickly."

As Elion moved towards his chosen area, the power grew, became defined. His mount rounded a corner, and there, in a small square, stood a man, not much younger than he was, wielding two Keyblades against three common Heartless. Itwas black, its design simple, crimson red at parts of the handle, as well as the head of the Key.

It was the other Keyblade that Elion marveled at; black as well, designed like a bat's wing, the 'skin flaps' being blood red. At the head of the blade, an angel's white wing was fixed, with blue tinges. The handle was peculiar as well. While most of it was in the same style as the blade, one half of the guard was also the angel's wing. The Keychain itself was dark, a crossed heart morphing into a spear, black outlined in red.

The man swiped at the Heartless as it leapt towards him, but it was a half-hearted attempt. His eyes were constantly moving, looking for a way to escape.

"What are you doing?" Elion called out to the man, "Destroy them!"

A pained expression flashed across the young face, "I—no! This is my family!"

"You must!" Elion shouted as his group spread out to counter the festering Heartless, "Their hearts are trapped, you must purge the Darkness!" He hastened to the man as one of the Heartless lunged, nearly knocking the Keyblade with the Keychain out of the man's hands.

"You lie!" The man glared slightly at Elion, swung again threateningly at the Heartless. They skittered about and taunted him, hissing and gurgling.

"I do not!" Elion arrived behind the three Heartless, and they turned to him, seeing his Kingdom Key. They jumped in shock, and crowded together, cowering. "Use that Keyblade with the Keychain—their hearts are unwillingly taken, they will continue to suffer if you let the Darkness stay."

The man did not move, and neither did Elion. Suddenly, they melted into the ground, three dark shadows flowing through the cobblestone road, up walls, and into a dark side-alley.

Elion heard a sigh, and his attention turned back to the man in front of him. He dismounted, and the man, registering his finer clothing, started to bow.

"Please, no need." Elion said hastily, bringing the man up again by his shoulders, "You were loyal, choosing not to destroy your family even when they turned against you."

"I let them escape." The young man replied, dismayed, "I didn't free them from the Darkness."

"There will be another time for that, and you will know when you meet them again." Elion directed the young man's attention to the bat-wing Keyblade, "When did you obtain this?"

"Just now, sir, when they took my family." The young man answered thoughtfully, "Though I had a strange dream the night before, wherein I obtained this; I suppose that was a prophecy-dream."

"A dream?" Elion mused, brushing aside the fog of his own memory to an earlier time in his life. "What is your name, warrior?"

"Narothe, sir." The young man replied as more Heartless surfaced.

"Well met, Narothe. I am Elion, Crown Prince of Radiant Garden." Eilon said grimly as both launched forward in their attack.

---

_Later, when the attack was routed, I invited nineteen-year-old Narothe to the castle, so that I might further discuss the Keyblade with him. I showed him my Kingdom Key, told him I had a dream before receiving mine as well, when I was fourteen years old. While he was curious for answers, Narothe insisted first on thoroughly searching his house, trying to find the faintest semblance of darkness that could lead him to his family. While he searched, my group of soldiers finished assessing the damage. I sent some of them back to report the results, reminding them to be firm with the treasurer; while he is very capable, he can be tardy depending on the importance of the area to Radiant Garden's economy. This area, being on the outskirts, is populated mostly by the laborers and farmers, or otherwise squatters, beggars, criminals, and the like. As they left, one of the soldiers left his horse for Narothe._

_The battle left destruction in its wake; windows and pipes smashed, wall paintings chipped, burning wood resulting from the mage Keyblades, chipped roofs as the warriors pursued craftier Heartless above. The statue of a small fountain nearby was destroyed by a particularly large and stubborn Heartless while trying to spear one of the soldiers on its elongated arms. A lone fruit stand nearby was obliterated, its contents painting the nearby granite wall and cobblestone ground—a farmer's hard work, wasted. _

_And of course, it left people like Narothe, whose family members and other loved ones had their hearts taken; I saw some of the bodies fade away even as I waited for Narothe. A child with gray eyes has his older brother's hands in a death-grip, begging him to stay—from his grieving I discerned that he would now be a complete orphan. The child was skinny, had slightly bronzed skin, and looked barely ten years of age; I doubted from now on he could manage on his own. It seemed like I would not be waiting only for Narothe today. A healer approached the child, and tried to direct his attention to an arm hanging limply at his side. The child struggled against the healer's gentle grip, even forced his broken arm up to wrench the healer's hand away with a pained but determined cry, much to my alarm. Once freed, the child tore off the tattered remains of his brother's black light coat, snatched his brother's rucksack and short dagger, and dashed away into a small alley nearby. _

"Leave him be." Narothe said to Elion when he made to order the healer after the child. "He knows where he's going, my Prince."

" 'Elion', please. You carry the same powers as me, and should be my equal." Elion replied distractedly, "Clearly the child knows where he is going. He's quite desperate to get there too, it seems, but his injury needs to be treated. Then we can deliver him to whomever he desires to go to."

"He will have no trouble getting his injury treated once he gets to where he wants to go—where he's been _told_ to go to if something like this happened. If he went with your healers, he would actually have a harder time getting back." Narothe watched the older brother's body fade away, and smiled politely at the healer as he approached them.

"Should I be after the child?" He asked, confused.

"Kiroch—that's the older brother—and Gaddalor—they're Darkspots. Gaddalor's going to a place where other Darkspots can find him, and take him in; I think it's better if he was with familiar people, rather than total strangers who probably don't like him too much, right? At least, I'm sure that's what he would think, so maybe it's better not to stress him out."

Narothe's words, while carefully worded and polite, its bluntness effectively silenced the healer and sent the three into an awkward silence. Narothe shrugged, and glanced behind at his house forlornly, "You wanted me to come with you?" He asked quietly.

Elion said a few quiet words to the healer, who then jogged away down the street. Narothe frowned, "You're not going to make him track Gaddalor, are you?" He asked, "I mean—I know he's a Darkspot and everything, but he's just a kid."

"No." Elion smiled, "And you're right, Narothe, he _is_ just a child. I asked the healer to search this area with his partner for more people in need—if he came across a Darkspot, I asked him to let them go if they so desired. He was happy to oblige, actually—after all, he would only hurt the Darkspot further, emotionally if not physically, if he forced them to stay. This is not a time to pick fights with them." He paused to mount, and Narothe followed suit.

"You seem to know a lot of the Darkspots." Elion commented as they made their way slowly into the urban area, surveying the damage along the way.

"Are you going to imply that I _am_ a Darkspot myself?" Narothe asked wearily.

"No, I am merely surprised that someone at your age is willing to associate with Darkspots." Elion reasoned.

"Well, my father was a Darkspot."

"Was he taken by the Heartless as well?"

"No; my mother, my older brother, and my younger sister were the ones taken. My father died years ago. He was executed as a criminal." Narothe replied.

"I see." Elion said, glancing at Narothe's frown, "Do not worry then; if the remainder of your family is intimately bound, their hearts will lead them back to your house despite the crushing Darkness."

Narothe said nothing, turning instead to Elion with a curious expression. "And what about you?" The frown disappeared as quickly as it appeared at the mention of his father. "Do you have any siblings?

"It would have been a joy to, but no; I am an only child. I have many cousins though, all of whom I have built friendships with. At this age though, I doubt these childhood bonds would last in the face of politics concerning the Throne." Elion answered with a small snort.

"You have that little confidence in your family's loyalty?"

"Oh, I am not worried about my cousins themselves; they like me quite a lot, save for a few distant and determined female cousins whom I have rejected several times. It is their scheming parents I must worry about." Elion smirked playfully at Narothe, "And now you must swear never to repeat a word you hear from me during this time, or I will have your head."

Narothe looked at him for a moment, before snorting, "You're not bad at scheming yourself, Prince."

"Of course; the Royal Family is the group that schemes the most, after all." Elion sighed, still smiling, "It is a fun game, if you do not mind the high stakes."

Narothe nodded, "And I just found out now that we have a prince like this. If I were not worrying myself sick over my family, I would laugh."

"Oh? And what do you mean by that, I wonder?" Elion mused,

Narothe smiled, small but sincere, "I meant it exactly as I said it; you are a good prince."

---

_After introducing a slightly nervous Narothe to my father and mother, I took him to the immense library in the upper floors of the castle. There, I found the familiar books that described the Keyblade's properties, abilities, design and production process, history, and a recording of the Prophecy of the Keyblade. Narothe was quite eager to digest all the information. He fought with a Keyblade prior to attaining the new one—that old one was his father's, bought from a friend who worked in one of the Synthesizing factories. Apparently it was a defunct one, and had no particularly strong strength or magic or other abilities. Narothe had heard about strengthening Keyblades, but due to his limited knowledge, he could not do so even if he could buy synthesizing materials or obtain them through defeating Heartless._

_Narothe did not ask many questions; neither does he need to. Everything was written down like a school textbook._

_You wouldn't happen to have that school textbook around, would you?_ Riku writes, holding the scroll as he takes a look outside the cave. The night-sun is high in the sky, and he has been reading for several hours. Mickey might be back soon, but for now he feels like this is something for him alone, something that might help him find his answer.

_No, unfortunately, though I am familiar with the contents. You would want to know, of course, since you are using a Keyblade yourself._

_Write away, then._ Riku smiles, returns to the glowing pitcher plants, and settles against the rock wall like a child against a high-backed chair. He always liked stories when he was a child; stories about another place, another time, anywhere beyond their boring little island.

---

_Many things about the Keyblade itself are unclear or purely speculative theories. Most people agree though, that at the Beginning, three True Keyblades were created using the energy of each of the three Realms—the Realm of Light, the Realm In Between, and the Realm of Darkness. Each Keyblade had a Wielder, chosen for the strength of his or her Heart._

_Little is known about the first Chosen Wielders of the Keyblade, though a popular theory names the mouse-like monarch 'King Mickey' and one of his descendants, of the World of Disney as the Wielders of the Keyblades of Light and Darkness. According to the legend, The Keyblade of Light came to the King Mickey when the Universe began to fall into a darkness that was not natural, and he used it to save the Universe. An unknown amount of time passed, in which King Mickey passed away, succeeded by an unknown number of generations. The Darkness, generated by the evils in the Heart, attacked again and succeeded. In the ruin and chaos of the Universe, where no Light was powerful enough, King Mickey's descendants sought to take up their ancestor's task of dispelling such evil—only this time, they would use the Dark to fight the Dark. Forsaking the ravaged Realm of Light for the safety of the Realm of Darkness, a warrior descendant found their solution—the Keyblade of Darkness. Thus, Darkness was defeated a second time. These two Keyblades came to be known now as the Kingdom Key and the Inverted Kingdom Key, respectively. Here it is possible to find proof that the first Chosen Wielders were indeed King Mickey's line, for they were the ones who named the Keyblades that defended their Kingdom in times of need. The appearance of the Kingdom Key in recent years also confirms this legend, for the Keychain is that of a mouse head._

_Nearly no records have been made of the Keyblade of the In Between, except for the archives at the Land of Disney. Even then, the diagrams and notes are faded, some illegible. The Realm In Between is a place for the pieces of a World, and the wandering survivors of such a world. There are few there who have the morale and the heart to be chosen by the Keyblade. Few of the Light can master the powers of Darkness completely without falling into it themselves, and even if they do, it is hard to travel in the unstable existences of the Realm In Between. There has only been one Chosen of the Realm In Between in what seems to be eleven sets of Chosen Wielders. The Wielder's name has been recorded as "Lossi", but the gender is unknown. This Wielder named the Keyblade of In Between 'Gatekeeper' for reasons unknown._

_The concept of 'Kingdom Hearts', a realm where every Heart of the Universe gathers, is born from, and returns to, suggests that there may in fact be a fourth True Keyblade, the most powerful of all, that defends the essences of the Universe and Life. The archives of Disney have never recorded the discovery of such a Keyblade by any of the Wielders, since only those people may reach Kingdom Hearts._

_The artificial creation of a Keyblade—known as an Incomplete Keyblade— was accidentally discovered by the master Synthesizer Ultairon and his Moogle companion. This first artificially created Keyblade was aptly named 'Ultima'. Later, Ultairon used this Keyblade to buy the freedom of all Moogles when they started to be enslaved for their talent in Synthesizing. While it is a skill that anyone can learn, only the Moogles hold the technique to perfect and further enhance the product; they are reluctant to teach this skill to others outside their race, Ultairon being the first in centuries._

_Analysis of the Ultima Keyblade once it was obtained from Ultairon revealed the basic synthesizing materials, unchanged in the process. The additive materials were so complicatedly assembled that obviously no one, save for Ultairon and the Moogles, knew what the starting parts were. Nevertheless, Keyblades started to be mass produced, and simple additives that could be easily synthesized with the basic form were added. These include mage spells such as fire, ice, air, gravity, water, thunder, etc. and healer and supporter spells. There were also elements that could enhance the wielder's strength, stamina, defense, and agility. Different types of spells however, could rarely be synthesized in combinations in one Keyblade without negative side effects. _

_Thus, many Keyblades took shape; the basic synthesizing materials were melted into custom molds designed by clients, and the desired spells added in the process. Once finished, it was painted the desired colors. These Keyblades, while able to become powerful in their own right, never matched the power of a true Keyblade because they lacked the Keychain. The Keychain is a physical manifestation of the Wielder's heart, and obviously could not be synthesized. Another significant point of difference between a True and Incomplete Keyblade is that the True Keyblade has the ability to lock and unlock the way to the Heart of a World, and ultimately, Kingdom Hearts. It is rumored that Ultima had a Keychain, which Ultairon and the Moogles kept to themselves when he bartered the Keyblade away. Ultima is also rumored to be able to unlock and lock the way to the Heart of a World because of the Keychain. It is unknown whether Ultima became a True Keyblade despite its artificial beginnings, and created the Keychain based on Ultairon's heart, or if Ultairon and the Moogles could synthesize the power of the Heart._

_It seemed that the Universe would be able to defend itself much better with the mass number of Keyblades, and those who hold the True Keyblades—Keyblade Masters, as they came to be called—would have less of a burden. But this was not to be so, for as more and more people obtained Keyblades, they began to use its powers for their own purposes. The unnatural darkness of evil crept into the Hearts of the Universe again, and the wall between the worlds began to break. Soon, wars erupted between worlds in the Realm of Light. Many of these worlds were destroyed, and the Realm of In Between became increasingly unstable with the influx of debris. Once again, the Keyblade Masters of Light and Darkness journeyed forth to save the Universe. It is unknown who the Masters are, or which set (though not the last one), only that they were forced to slaughter many other Keyblade wielders before the war ended. Their hearts were ruined by the turmoil they witnessed and participated in, and the true Keyblades left them. This catastrophic event became known as the 'Keyblade War'._

_Since then, severe regulations has been put on the production of the Keyblade, and who would be allowed to have them. For example, in Radiant Garden, only the soldiers of the Royal Army may legally have a Keyblade. A new recruit is trained equally in all areas of combat, physically and magically. Once accepted into the army, they are given a Keyblade based on the needs of the army. The new soldier will then learn to focus on a specific category of spells, or on enhancing physical strength, defense, and agility. Other worlds, such as Disney, have banned the use of Incomplete Keyblades altogether. The Keyblade Masters themselves seem to not care, as long as the world does not fall into the Darkness again. _

_The Moogles have become a reclusive race; while they appear in many places, they are few in number and hard to find. It is unknown if they have retained Synthesizing knowledge they have gained with Ultairon, or if they have long since forgotten it. Currently attempts are being made to locate their leaders and negotiate cooperation._

_The future of the Incomplete Keyblade is uncertain. Synthesizing has become an industry in many worlds and a field of study and research in almost every single one. In worlds which allow people to possess Incomplete Keyblades, professional Synthesizers are continuously perfecting and furthering their abilities, in search of a way to create more complicated Incomplete Keyblades. There is a tentative but very controversial proposal of trying to find a way to synthesize the power of the Heart. Militaristic worlds find this an appealing idea, because this would open the possibility of upgrading their Incomplete Keyblades into True Keyblades. This would grant them the ability to directly attack the heart of a World should there ever be another war. While the proposal states that strict and unrelenting regulations would be placed on these artificial True Keyblades, the Synthesizing community and the governments of each world are still in heated debate._

_The future of the True Keyblade has always been set in its own Prophecy. That is, when Darkness seeps into the Hearts of the Universe, and erodes away the walls of the world in an attempt to swallow everything in Darkness, the Keyblade will choose a person of strong heart, who will be its Master and who will wield the power to change the world. The Keyblade Master has the power to bring either prosperity or ruin, or both, to the Worlds of the Universe. Ultimately, the Keyblade Master has the power to plunge the world into Darkness, or lead it to Light._

"This is a newer version, around five years old. The bit about the appearance of the Kingdom Key in my hands was addedeight years ago." Elion said when Narothe closed the book, "I suspect even now my father is ordering a new version to be made, and your name will be somewhere in this same article, along with any new advances made on the Incomplete Keyblade."

Narothe nodded, "It's really interesting—but there are still some really big holes in terms of the history of the Keyblade. The earlier history, that is."

"True; as said in the article, many parts of the earlier history were speculative theories, made doubly unreliable by the fact that we have only one primary source: the World of Disney. They are a friendly bunch, but quite secretive actually for some reason. We know for sure though, that King Mickey's line is often—though not always, as you can see from me—chosen as the Masters of the Keyblade of Light and Darkness, and they were the ones who named it Kingdom Key and Inverted Kingdom Key. We know for sure that the first Master of the Keyblade of the In Between is Lossi, and he or she named the Keyblade "Gatekeeper". I suspect they know why it was named so, but they refuse to tell us. Synthesizing started about five millennia ago and the Keyblade War not long after that, maybe a few decades. That was as far as Disney tells us; we don't know who won or who lost or what really happened. As for Ultairon and the mysteries of Synthesizing, only the Moogles know the answer." Elion replied.

"What about the attempts to negotiate with them then?" Narothe asked.

"I asked the master messenger responsible for coordinating these efforts, and he won't give me a straight answer. My guess is that it's not working very well, but I can guess why. The Moogles used to have a close relationship with the other beings of the universe, and they were probably very guilt-wracked over the fact that Ultairon, in order to buy their freedom, traded away something they Synthesized together. Further more, Ultima became the trigger that brought about the eventual death of millions of lives. On the other hand, they were probably angry at the foolishness and greed of the beings of the Universe, and might have wondered that perhaps Ultairon had betrayed them, and spread the secrets of more advanced Synthesizing indirectly by giving them Ultima to analyze." Elion mused thoughtfully.

"Maybe we should just leave them alone then. We've come this far, we can go further without them, can't we?" Narothe asked, sliding the book gently, almost reverently, back into its place on the shelves.

"We might, but it would take a lot longer than if we were to ask the Moogles to help us and work with us. Besides, it is beneficial for the Moogles too; they may be better than us in the Synthesizing process itself, but we have more means and manpower to gather the materials needed, and to hunt for the rarer materials." Elion answered, looking out the window at the daylight scenery. "Besides, with the Moogles around, they can keep us from going off track. Synthesizing is almost like a science, and possibilities are endless, some dangerous."

"I can see why," Narothe made a sound of agreement. "We're Chosen to wield the True Keyblades, to have the power to open the way to the Heart of a World and to Kingdom Hearts, for a reason. We can handle that sort of power and the responsibilities that come with it because we have a strong heart. This kind of power can't be given to anyone less worthy."

"You have to do some things yourself, I think, is what people need to understand. Not everything could be done through artificial means, even though it's something as powerful as Synthesizing. The power of the Heart is something as unpredictable as it is unique, and by that alone it cannot be harnessed, analyzed, duplicated, and customized." Elion smiled.

"People won't listen to you when you talk all high-and-mighty like that," Narothe suddenly grinned. "They'll only get it if you tell them that the Power of the Heart isn't just a magic spell and a few lumps of shiny rock melted into some fancy piece of junk metal with pretty colors. A lot of us aren't as elegant and sophisticated like you." His grin morphed into a smirk, "Once again, prince, you are out of touch with your people."

"Rather cheeky for a commoner, don't you think?" Elion retorted mock-haughtily.

"Well, no matter how good the Royal Family is about keeping up the standards of Radiant Garden, you can't be everywhere at once. There's a lot of us who would like to be cheeky with people like you." Narothe shrugged, "Out-of-touch, three; in-touch, zero."

"Perhaps I _do_ need some help then." Elion laughed.

"Definitely," Narothe stood up from the chair and punched Elion lightly on one shoulder. "Hey, that's what I'm here for."

The prince and the commoner exited the library, talking animatedly with each other, all forms of protocol fast forgotten.

---

_Narothe and I built a fast and tight bond of friendship, thanks to our interest in the different societies we resided in, and our common, almost unique ground as Keyblade Masters. He continued to live in the outskirt area of Radiant Garden, though often in the next month he made the trip to the castle to spar with me. While he had no horses that might make the trip easier, he apparently had a good friend who worked on the train system. He was almost daring me to challenge his rule-breaking as he told me this, but I laughed it off; it was something to be expected in a big place like Radiant Garden._

Elion dismissed the messenger, and turned to Narothe, who stood with his two Keyblades expectantly.

"My father wants to meet with me," Elion frowned in the direction the messenger went. "There are matters concerning the last Heartless attack that he desires for me to investigate. Apparently, he would like also for you to participate, because you are a Keyblade Master."

"I see," Confusion flashed across Narothe's face, "What is it about?"

Elion gestured for Narothe to follow him through the caslte, "While investigating the cause of attack and where the Heartless have gotten in, it was discovered that the Darkspots are going to be holding a 'Festival of Darkness' tonight. My father suspects the festival, or even the cause of it, has something to do with the Heartless attack."

" 'Fesitval of Darkness'?" Narothe murmured.

"Do you know anything about it?" Elion asked.

Narothe shook his head, "Sounds bad though."

"I thought the same; let us get some proof first though, from my father."

The two made their way to the main council room, where the King and several generals sat in a close circle.

"My son." The King acknowledged with a small smile and Elion bowed slightly. Beside him, Narothe bowed low in greeting.

"Well met, Narothe, Keyblade Master of the Realm In Between." The King greeted formally, "I am glad you could find time to attend to this meeting."

"I am honored." Narothe answered simply. The King nodded.

"Father, what is this 'Festival of Darkness' business?" Elion asked.

The King sighed, "Grave news, is it not? It is just as the messenger has told you; we suspect that they may be celebrating the Heartless attack. Several Darkspots were interrogated on this matter, but none would give any details. Witnesses say no Darkspots were present during the Heartless attack, and apparently they had suffered injuries themselves. It seems that they might have tried to control the Heartless from behind the scenes, but the Darkness betrayed them," He looked up at Elion and Narothe. "Administrative forces have been sent to suspected areas of congregation for the Darkspots, to spread our word and ask them to justify this upcoming event, or stop with the proceedings completely to keep from attracting more Darkness. They have flat out refused us, and reports have come in of small bands of Darkspots taking physical protest upon the administrative officers. Already several have been arrested, and refuse to admit their wrongs."

"This 'festival' must be quite important, for them to defend it so fiercely even as they are recovering themselves from the Heartless attack." Elion commented thoughtfully.

"Or they could be trying to attract the Heartless again," Narothe suggested quietly. "After all, we don't know what's going in the festival."

"Quite true," The King agreed. "Which is why a small task force from the Keyblade army must be assembled and sent to the festival grounds tonight in case anything goes awry," He frowned. "My spies will tell you the location of the festival grounds," the King rubbed his forehead and sighed heavily. "Whispers of a great rally at the festival are abroad in the Darkspot circles. The situation will most likely get violent, and I do not want such things when some places nearby are still in recovery. The Darkspots must be stopped."

"Consider it done, father," Elion stood up confidently, "It is good experience for Narothe and I, as well, to be fighting against the Darkness as Keyblade Masters."

"Two Keyblade Masters have assembled," Narothe stood up as well. "The Darkness needs to be told it can't do what it did a month ago so freely anymore."

The King nodded approvingly, "Your confidence is greatly reassuring, and from the sparring sessions I have observed between you two, I have no doubt in your abilities."

Elion and Narothe bowed to the King, small, proud smiles on their faces.

---

_The spies told me that the festival is to start at sundown just outside the gates of Radiant Garden. Narothe and I had ample time to prepare ourselves and assemble the task force—six Healers,eight Mages,eight Supporters, andtwenty Warriors, all high-ranking. When the sun started to set, we set out. Four Warriors had already set out one hour ahead on the train assess the festival grounds for a hiding spot for our forces. When we arrived by the same route, they were ready, staking a small area just outside the festival grounds, on a foliaged hill with a jutting ledge that hid us from eyes below._

"There they are," Narothe stole quietly through the grass to Elion's side.

Elion followed Narothe's slightly outstretched arm to the gates of Radiant Garden. Groups and small lines of people, dressed warmly for the night in midnight-black trickled out of the door to the Gatekeeper's station. A band of young men and women followed soon after with baggy sleeves that trailed if they did not cross their arms, laced sandals, all ebony black, and pristine white arm-length staffs with heavily ornate heads.

"What do you make of those?" Elion turned to a Mage. The man peered carefully at the staffs, and conversed for a moment quietly with another mage.

"Looks like a Summoning staff, sir—it is too long and unwieldy to be a Mage staff," the Mage replied.

"Summoning?" Narothe asked curiously.

"The art of calling forth a being of strong heart that survived the destruction of its own world at the hands of Darkness. Their essences are trapped in Summon Gems, scattered in the Realm In Between as are the debris of their worlds, or sometimes landing on other Worlds of Light. Only Keyblade Masters have the ability to locate the Summon Gems through the connection of strong hearts, though, and call forth the being with the power of the True Keyblade." Elion cast a wary glance at the gathering crowd.

The mage cleared his throat. "Another form of Summoning is called "Aeon Summon", where fantastical creatures are summoned from the sacrificial rite of a being of power. Eventually it was discovered that the power of many common people could be combined to form the strength of a single being of power, so mass sacrificial rites started to take place. It was too cruel, and eventually the skills and power to perform these processes were hidden away, and disappeared. The last recorded Summoner was a woman named 'Yuna'. We know nearly nothing about her, only that she died seven-thousand years ago, at an unknown age."

"Are they trying to revive Aeon Summoning then?" Narothe asked; he stared at a group of arriving children uneasily. Their laughter rode the slight breeze into his ears.

Elion shook his head, "Impossible. Aeon Summoning takes a great amount of concentration and stamina from the Summoner, and no one could accomplish the level of meditation needed for that at such a young age. Those young men and women cannot have been older than you and I." His brow furrowed, "I suspect they are trying to modify the Keyblade Summon. Using the power of Darkness, perhaps they are trying to enslave lesser beings that roam in the Realm In Between."

Narothe nodded, and Elion turned to the mage, "I want the Mages to focus on those men and women when we move in. Take one Supporter and Healer with you." The Mage nodded with a slight bow, and made his way back through the bushes to his comrades.

"When do we go?" Narothe asked, his body tensed.

"Not so soon yet—we must wait until they are all here. It would not do if we were to arrest all but a few of the Darkspots, and leave the rest to bemoan how their country is run by tyrants." Elion replied quietly, his eyes fixed on the door of the Gatekeeper's station.

"Well, I don't think many people would believe them." Narothe commented.

"Correct, but there are those of sympathetic and soft-hearted enough to believe." Elion frowned slightly, "The Darkspots have caused enough trouble for us. They are stubborn and stop at nothing to promote Darkness, and there have constantly been cases of innocent civilians being intimidated and forced into converting to their beliefs. Worlds that Radiant Garden desires to set up an inter-world trade link tell us that _we_ are not a desirable partner because of the Darkspots, who are the source of many black markets in Radiant Garden. The other worlds fear that their products may seep into the normal market, and they will be buying items contaminated or otherwise damaged by Darkness. In truth, Radiant Garden is not the strongest world in terms of economics. We are best known for our research into Synthesizing, the different Realms, and inter-world travel. Fortunately, those fields provide us with a strong income, and many worlds that are willing to invest in our research projects. We produce well over half of the Realm of Light's incomplete Keyblades, and are leading the research in ways for enhancement. Most of the Realm's Gummi Ships are produced by us, and we work together with many other worlds to gather information about their part of the Inter-world Sea and design Gummi Ships that suit the hazards travelers may encounter there."

"A lot of people must come here then, for the amount of knowledge." Narothe said thoughtfully, "Unless they are afraid of the Darkspots too?"

"Well, almost everyone is content to remain in their own world, for that is where they are born and grew, and ultimately where their Hearts lie. For the small numbers that do decide to leave though, yes, most of them come here. We take great measures to protect these few foreign intellectuals, not only because we value the talents they bring, but also because they are fresh to this world, and Darkspots may take advantage of that," Elion's eyes were trained on a particular man as he spoke. "Darkspots are spread through out the levels of society, and they hide their status well," He gestured to the man. "Like him, for example. I recognize that stature anywhere, and it is a sad surprise for me. That man is Kantl, and he has been my swords master since I was a child."

"How did he get so high when he's a Darkspot?" Narothe mused.

"I do not know," Elion sighed. "But this means either of two things: he may have been spreading the Darkspot beliefs amongst those in the upper society, or he may have been converted by someone else, who I must track down. But that does not matter now—either way, he will be arrested, though it saddens me to do so. At least, until we can be sure that he did not spread the beliefs."

"And if he did?" Narothe asked.

"Then I do not know, nor do I want to know," Elion followed Kantl's back until he disappeared into the crowd of gathered Darkspots. "My father has been vexed by the Darkspot problem for years, and his father before him, then several generations back. They have been held back in the past, but they have always managed to grow again. This is a good opportunity for us, since this is seemingly one of their major festivals, and undoubtedly almost everyone will be here. My father will not hesitate to put an end to the Darkspots, and if I were in that position I would too."

Narothe stared at Elion through the night, "You wouldn't plead for Kantl's case?"

Elion smiled somewhat bitterly, "I am not sure if I want to. As you know, being a Darkspot is a rather large secret to be keeping from others. It—tarnishes my image of him, rather harshly, especially when put together with all the comments he makes repeatedly about the Kingdom Key being a monster."

"Our family didn't find out my father was a Darkspot either, until he was put on trial for smuggling Incomplete Keyblades—including this one, I suppose," Narothe said after a pause. "He let it slip in the trial, said he was doing it all for _them_, all for _us_, to get a living. He'd even smuggled some Darkspots out of Radiant Garden, said he was doing them a favor—drunken bastard."

"Well, it is not my place to say anything about your father's character, since this is your family's matter, though I imagine it has been very hard for your family to be associated with a Darkspot. And hard for you, to be the son of a Darkspot like that. What he _did_ though, does have grave implications for us, especially if other worlds found out that people who worship Darkness have been living in their world, coming from here."

Narothe nodded, and the pair fell silent.

"Remind me to pay a visit to the Gatekeeper when this is over." Elion said when after a little while, no more Darkspots came out of the door.

Narothe nodded, "Do we move out?" He asked. Elion nodded.

As the task force formed ranks, the warriors at the front, Elion saw the Darkspots move into a circular crowd. In the middle, Kantl's large figure stood on a podium.

"_Darkness is the beginning of all life, and all life shall return to Darkness in the end to begin anew._" Kantl's voice boomed in the quiet of the night. "_Darkness is in all Hearts of the Universe, and is the essence of Kingdom Hearts."_

Elion nodded at the warriors, bringing his hand down in a silent signal, his heart a little colder.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Comments, questions, and suggestions _greatly_ appreciated. Since this is only one person's brainpower (or imaginary power, more likely), there's bound to be some loopholes in something, and any help is welcome. To clear things up just in case, both Elion and Narothe fight with two Keyblades--and Incomplete one and a True one. This is my interpretation of the secret video of KHII, so readers may check out Elion and Narothe's Keyblades if they so desire.

Elion's little essay about the Keyblade is **_all made up_. **There are no substantial evidence to support any of it, including what the Keychain is, except for maybe the things about the Kingdom Key and Inverted Kingdom Key (aka. Sora's Keyblade and King Mickey's Keyblade). Aeon Summoning is of course another piece my imagination just had to add, courtesy of Final Fantasy X.

Thanks once again for reading, and apologies for the insane length.

ckmono


	3. Chapter Two

_Disclaimer: Kingdom Heats I, CoM, II do not belong to me. They belong to SquareEnix and all other companies associated with this wonderful project. I am merely borrowing._

**Author's Notes: **Again, Elion's story contains little to no familiarity in terms of things from the game. There will be, however, parts of this story that refer to what happened to Riku after Kingdom Hearts I, so **consider this a spoiler warning.** Enjoy reading, and apologies for the insane length.

* * *

**_Chapter Two_**

_**My name is Elion, last King of Radiant Garden in the Time of Prophecy. On a night of glory in my story, my world begins to change.**_

"I knew you were there, your highness."

"That is not surprising—I do not think we were at all quiet." Elion took one step away from the warriors, and stared through the parted crowd up at Kantl. The mages spread out, their Keyblades swishing lightly in the air, weaving power into their trail. Perceptibly, the crowd shifted uneasily so that the women and children were closer in the middle.

"No, this is a well-trained force," Kantl surveyed the mages who had positioned themselves around the crowd with approving eyes. "You were perfectly quiet, and almost all here could not hear you."

"And yet, you did." Elion's Incomplete Keyblade hung limply from his hand, the tip resting in the ground of the sparsely-grassy clearing.

"No, I did not," Kantl rumbled with a small, grim smile. "I felt a rather strong stare when I came here. If I had sensed such a stare head on, I would have stopped."

"And you did not tell them perhaps you had sensed danger, and they should leave." Elion gestured to the tense crowd. As his eyes traveled back to Kantl's, he caught sight of a pair of gray eyes and a small hand clutching a short dagger. Behind the eyes stood a woman, a plain Incomplete Keyblade in one of her hands, still in the air. Her proud eyes met Elion's without fear.

"Because they would not have listened," Kantl answered firmly, uncrossing his arms.

"Then they should have. You should have." Elion said quietly, the Incomplete Keyblade lifting off the ground.

"There is no room 'should have' in this world, Prince," Kantl chuckled gloomily, "though you and I both wish there is. At least, for everyone else here." He drew his sword.

"Then let there be," Elion signaled to Narothe and the warriors behind him, and they parted. "I will allowyou to leave unharmed, so long as you surrender your weapons to my men, and swear to renounce your beliefs."

"You are quite wordy as usual, my Prince," Kantl answered with soft amusement as daggers flashed in the dark crowd, followed by the shadowy outline of staffs and Incomplete Keyblades. "You are wasting your breath, better spent on doing what you came here for."

"There are many here that I would prefer not to arrest." Elion frowned as the line of warriors closed behind him.

"Then you are too soft-hearted. If your father were here we would all be in ropes and chains now." Kantl said. He took no heed to the ring of rushing air taking shape around the crowd.

"I am not my father."

"Then you must _become_ him. You cannot rule a country with such a temperament—there will be many more to come in your time who are much more stubborn than we are."

Teacher and student stared across the crowd at each other for several moments, before Elion sighed, and approached Kantl through the parted crowd. The crowd closed slowly behind him.

"Elion!" Narothe called out.

"Arrest them all," Elion ordered. The ring of air howled, pushing back the few children who tried to escape. The mages stepped away from their complete magic, as the first sparks of magic erupted between two clashing Incomplete Keyblades.

The pair of gray eyes and the proud woman disappeared into the disintegrating order of the crowd as Elion came within a few paces of Kantl, his Keyblade held in a battle stance.

"You seem disappointed," Elion said as Kantl sank into a similar stance.

"I am," Kantl scowled at him. "You will not be a good King, and I worry for the future of my fellow subjects of Radiant Garden."

"And why is that?" Elion asked as he watched Kantl's sword, swishing slightly in the air. "I am doing exactly as you said what would make a good King."

"_That_ is exactly why."

Startled, Elion jerked back from Kantl's sudden lunge, crashing into someone behind him. Steadied by hands, Elion recovered in time to see Narothe rush past him, crossing his Keyblades to catch Kantl's downward slash. Kantl's countenance barely changed; he allowed Narothe to push his sword away, and swung back violently against Narothe's incomplete Keyblade. Jerked sideways by the force, the weapon slid easily out of Narothe's unsuspecting hands, disappearing into the moving forest of legs around them. Hastily, he recovered and beat aside the returning slash, glaring.

"Your opponent is me, Kantl." Elion's keyblades flew against Kantl's sword, forcing him to turn away from Narothe. "Narothe, help the others."

Narothe hesitated for a moment, before turning away, knocking down one of the staff-holding Darkspots.

"Your men are quite strong." Kantl glanced over Elion's shoulders as he pinned Elion's incomplete Keyblade into the ground with his sword. Elion brought the Kingdom Key up, and swung towards Kantl's head. Kantl reached up with one hand, catching the bar of the weapon, wincing slightly as its energy coursed through him.

"And efficient," Elion added confidently, risking a glance at the crowd. "Soon it will be over. Surrender."

"True, and perhaps I should," Kantl jumped one pace away, letting go of the Kingdom Key, the skin of the hand he held it with raw at the palm. "But as I have told you, we are stubborn."

Elion tensed in his position, not sure what he felt about Kantl's hand. Behind him, women and children shrieked, sprinkled with the furious cries of a few remaining men. Kantl's face lit up with orange, and he raised his sword again.

Elion frowned, and swung the Kingdom Key in a wide arc. Electricity whipped through the air in a jagged wave, shooting through the towering man in front of him. The sword arm faltered as Kantl crumpled convulsively, jerking into his own body.

Elion charged, his incomplete Keyblade reaching out to jam itself against Kantl's sword. A flash of regret and something like disappointment flashed across the man's eyes—reflected, Elion knew, in his own—before Elion brought the Kingdom Key hard against the side of his head.

A ring of fire surrounded Kantl as he fell, his shocked hand still clutching the sword. Elion turned to see two mages, and fixed them with a hard stare.

"Do not hurt him," He ordered, "That man will come with you willingly. If not, restrain him and tell me once this is finished. _Do not hurt him_."

The mages nodded solemnly. "There is a group of children, and a woman left, my prince. The children are not much of a problem, but the woman…"

"I will see to it. Watch him, and reinforce the surrounding air spell." Elion said, turning away. As he approached the group across the circular battle field, the bordering grass bent lower into the ground.

The children—_there were only a few, who must have been separated from their mothers in the chaos. The rest were probably trapped behind that larger fire ring_—huddled in a small group behind the proud woman, as close as they could without being pushed down by the rushing air behind them. In the small, crouching shapes, one stood slightly taller, hunched and glaring, the firelight making his gray eyes a dirty orange.

"Elion!" Narothe's voice rang in alarm.

Elion raised his Keyblades just in time to destroy an aquatic projectile. Blinking away the droplets in his eyes, he focused on the incomplete Keyblade the woman held, glowing at the tip with water magic. She dropped into a simple defensive stance.

"Let the children behind me go," She called out over the howl of the wind. "Let them go and I will surrender without fuss."

"The children must come with us as well." One of the mages said stonily with a hint of impatience, his incomplete Keyblade crackling with electricity.

"You wouldn't dare." The woman glared murderously at him. Behind her, the glinting dagger shrunk back in fear.

The mage remained impassive, "I will if you do not admit defeat."

"No!" Elion said sternly, "You will not harm the children, not even to restrain them."

A look of frustration flashed across the mage's face. Another mage stepped up, his keyblade swishing in a circle before pointing at the woman with a white-blue glow. The woman's Keyblade, completely black by the firelight, a crown-like design at its tip, raised to meet the glow with its own spell. In a bright flash, a ball of ice fell to the ground. The woman cursed under her breath.

Before she could react, Elion aimed his Keyblade at the ground around the children. Ice erupted out of the ground, and the dagger sank away huddling into the middle with the other small bodies.

The woman turned her eyes to Elion. "Release them." She demanded.

"No," Elion answered bluntly. "Concede defeat." He ordered, his Kingdom Key pointing towards her incomplete Keyblade. Near him, Narothe raised his true Keyblade as well.

The woman looked at the Kingdom Key and the Keyblade of the In Between for a second, then straight into Elion's eyes.

"I will not," she said, and suddenly, smiled challengingly at both of them. "As Keyblade Masters, you should know how stubborn the Heart becomes at times."

---

_It was surprising, to say the least._

_There was a tremendous surge of energy, fixing both Narothe and I to the ground, astonished. My men took no heed to this power, for they were not aware of what it represented. They thought that she was about to conjure forth some immense weapon of Darkness, and charged before I could stop them. None of them were fast enough, of course; the power of the Heart can be called forth faster than a moment. When our eyes cleared from the sudden bright flash, the small group of Warriors and Mages with us had fallen. I could hear the Healers and Supporters shouting to one another, trying to treat any injuries the Darkspots might have received, and restrain them at the same time._

_Those things were only noted in retrospect; I suspect at that moment, just for one moment, excitement overtook everything else in my heart at the design of the second Keyblade in the woman's hands, its Keychain twinkling in the firelight—the same as the Kingdom Key, but with its colors reversed._

_Narothe probably felt the same way and I knew the woman counted on our surprise. She swung the Inverted Key once casually, and then lunged towards me, snapping us out of our reverie._

_The woman was very skilled with her true Keyblade, as if she held it in her hands the moment she was born. If either Narothe or I had fought against her by our selves, the fight would have lasted much longer, neither winning nor losing. We gained ground when Narothe's electrical spells managed to cripple the mage ability ofher Incomplete Keyblade. _

_But something was—not right. When we succeeded in knocking the Inverted Key away from her hands, she made no move to retrieve them. She looked at it, but only sparingly. She stood up; ignoring the cuts she had received from Narothe's true Keyblade, or the hand that held her Inverted Key, stiff from the energy of the Kingdom Key when I slackened her grip with a blow._

The woman looked at them strangely, "Well?"

"You admit defeat?" Narothe asked, something akin to confusion flashing across his face.

"I was disarmed," The woman answered practically, "I have no means of defense left, and if you were ordered to kill me, I would have been." She threw glance towards the children, and looked pointedly at Elion.

"Narothe, could I leave you to take care of them? I must check on the overall situation." Elion asked, a ball of fire shooting from his Kingdom Key, boiling a hole in the ice wall. Narothe nodded silently.

The Healers, Elion saw with satisfaction, were professional enough to contain their prejudices, though they worked much faster through the Darkspots than their comrades. Elion made one check on Kantl, before he was ushered into a large, shuffling group with everyone else. Kantl looked like he wanted to say something, but in the end both averted their eyes.

The woman joined Kantl as the children scampered through the stationary crowd, finding their parents and older siblings.

"Gaddalor," The woman said as a pair of gray eyes appeared near her outstretched hand. The boy turned to stare, wide-eyed, at Narothe as he pressed himself against the woman. Narothe held the gaze steadily for several moments before the boy turned away.

"Should I stay at the back?" Narothe asked as the crowd began to move sluggishly back towards the gates of Radiant Garden.

Elion nodded, but jerked his head sideways a second later. "No," He murmured quietly, turning away and motioning for Narothe to follow. "There are—issues, we need to talk about. Or think about, rather—if you ride with me, it would be easier if we seek each other's opinions."

Narothe nodded silently, and cast a glance at the woman and Kantl. He found Gaddalor staring at him still. "Let's go ask for her name."

"No," Elion replied as they made their way quickly to the head of the group, ignoring the Kantl, the woman, and Gaddalor as they passed by. "This is something better left for when we are alone. As soon as the usual proceedings and registry of criminals is over, I will ask my father to summon her to us. We can ask for her name then."

"They know about the Inverted Keyblade; they saw it appear on her, didn't they?" Narothe asked after a while, as they reached the gates.

"This is why we must speak to her privately," Elion replied as the crowd oozed slowly through the gates. A Darkspot man with a broken leg stumbled on the cobblestone and fell, bumping several other people against each other, including a few soldiers. The flow of movement around him froze with a choking tension, until he stood up painfully by himself, and nodded warily to everyone else.

"We are in a very peculiar position, Narothe," Elion murmured quietly as the crowd started moving again. "Everyone is uneasy. Everyone is expecting _us_ to do _something_, and we will be judged by our actions. Our men are no doubt in as much confusion as we are about that woman, and of course they would want us to find out. But they also know that the three of us hold the true Keyblades, and that she openly supports the Darkspots."

"They think we'll be lax on the Darkspots because there is someone there just like us," Narothe frowned. "Why? They know we fight against the Darkness."

"Do they?" Elion asked. The metal gates rumbled shut with an ear-piercing creak. "They know about the Prophecy, and it says nothing about Keyblade Masters being obligated to fight evil. Next to that they know nothing about what a Keyblade Master is like; the exploits of the past bearers tell them nothing, because there essentially _is_ nothing to tell. All the records are either vague or non-existent. We are legends to them, and while they do admire us, I believe to some extent they fear us."

"Well, we are on the same side, what is there to fear? They know you to be righteous, and thanks to the mouths of the Court they know about me," Narothe glanced at the crowd a few paces behind them. "If they know that, then it's logical that they must be afraid of the _power_ we hold."

"Perhaps," Elion mused. "I had hoped though, that I would not present such an image to the people. I try my best to appear an average man in my demeanor."

Narothe snorted, "You mean you try to appear an average man in demeanor when you _actually_ show up in everyday marketplaces." He smirked slightly, "Things spread fast in towns, Prince, and you, visiting some local fruit stall, are not one of them."

"Perhaps you need bigger ears then." Elion taunted.

"Radiant Garden is not that big for a street urchin like me," Narothe exaggerated. "And I hear enough," He grinned smugly in the street lamp. "Out of touch, _four_; in touch, zero."

Elion shook his head, an exasperated and bemused smile on his face.

"Out of touch or not, there _is_ something I hope to present to the people, and that is to reassure them, _including_ the Darkspots themselves, that I will not be lax when matters concern the Darkness. If I question the woman now, it will no doubt cause a commotion amongst the Darkspots; they will think they are going to be saved, just because they have a Keyblade Master on their side," Elion stared at the head of his horse thoughtfully. "No—you and I will both talk to her privately, and she will be sent back to the dungeons straight afterwards. That woman is demanding, and if we talk to her now she will of course try to bargain her words for the freedom of the prisoners."

"You _do_ seem to scheme a lot," Narothe commented. "At least this way you make sure that the people do not see you debasing yourself by talking to a Darkspot woman, and having her ride with us."

"The people will not know." Elion replied. Narothe snorted again.

"Of course they would know," He said matter-of-factly, "Don't think no one's watching us behind those shuttered windows—they're just keeping quiet. Besides, they probably expected this. If your father's spies heard things, then everyone else has, naturally. That's what your spies are, right? They're a representative of the _image_ that you want to present to the people—secretive, knowing what others don't, hearing whispers that others don't hear, and powerful. _In control of all aspects of the situation._" His eyebrows twitched, "Looking at us now, I'd say that's ironic, no?"

Elion stared at Narothe, his eyes flicking for a moment beyond the younger man's face to the shuttered windows along the light-striped street.

Narothe chuckled, "Out of touch, _five_; in touch, zero."

---

_You weren't quite the schemer yet._ Riku wrote in amusement. Something rustled loudly outside the cave, beyond the entrance he could only half-see, and Riku's pen froze on the paper. Placing both down as quietly as he could, his fingers wound themselves instinctively around the handle of the Way to the Dawn.

Something scuffled inside, the scratchy, pit-pat footsteps echoing abnormally loud in the cave. Dark antennae appeared cautiously around the bend.

Riku jerked from his sitting position, reaching through the embrace of his own Darkness as he forced his will brutally on the Heartless, slamming its humanoid, shadowy body squirming to the ground. It made a half-hiss-half-rattle sound in terror, pounding its pseudo-fist against the rocky ground, trying futilely to split open the dark portal that it could escape into as Riku advanced slowly. The Heartless struggled wildly, madly smashing a nearby rock in two as the angel wing at the tip of the Keyblade appeared in its line of vision.

Riku relaxed the invisible foot that held the Heartless in place, and it jerked, scrambling and tumbling pathetically backwards out of the cave, in to the overhead dark-sun. Riku cocked his head in cold amusement as more Heartless appeared at the cave mouth. After several frantic gestures, the Heartless disappeared, the one he restrained jerking its face back to him before hastily reaching into the ground, melting away.

He settled back against the cave wall, his grip on the Keyblade relaxing. As he reached to pick up the pen and paper, his hand, visibly tanned an ugly light brown and larger and thinner than he remembered, caught the shaft of light from the cave entrance.

Riku shook his hand once violently, as if trying to throw something disgusting and _leeching_ off, and felt the Light within him surge in scorching _fear_.

Burying his face in slightly clammy but pale and _normal_ hands—_my_ _own_ _hands, not **his**, never his, I beat him, I won, he's **gone**_—he waited for his suddenly racing and tripping heart to calm down.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Elion's frantic words. _Riku? I felt Darkness. I know I am a weak presence within this paper, yet it was strong enough that I felt it. What happened? Did something attack you?_

_Nothing. Just a Heartless. A simple one. _Riku wrote quickly, then stopped. _I subdued it, forced it to go away. The Darkness—I'm not in as much control of my own as I would like to be._

Immediately, the reply appeared, _do not overtax yourself, please. Both Narothe and my bride lived in the Darkness, have dealt with it more than I ever have. I do know however, that it is hard on both of them, and too much for Narothe to handle in the end._

_Once it was too much for me. _Riku wrote, leaning against the Road to the Dawn, _Not anymore now. _He paused. _Xehanort—Narothe— is gone._ He wrote tentatively.

There was a pregnant pause before Elion replied, _I am grieved, but relieved at the same time. Whatever he has become, whatever he looks like when he appeared before you, I hope you have made him let go._

_I'm not sure if he'll ever let go. _Riku wrote, a small smile on his face, _he said before he left, that a part of him will always be a part of me. And he's right, because that's what allows me to be both Light and Dark. But I think someday, I can make that Darkness completely my own._ _I can't hear Xehanort anymore, can't **sense** him like I always used to when he was inside me. It doesn't feel like something's pressing my brain, threatening to give me a migraine if I didn't do what it told me to do._

_That is a good sign._ Elion's words came simply.

_True, _Riku wrote after a moment, _I'm glad that's over with. Tell me more?_

_You are very eager, _Riku could almost see the soft amusement in the words.

_Well, I always hated being bored. That's what got me here, actually. _He wrote.

_Someday, you will tell me your story._

_It's a lot more boring than yours._

_No matter; any Keyblade Master's story is worth hearing._

---

"What is your name?" Elion heard his father ask sternly, brows drawn down in a judgmental frown.

"Renae." The young woman answered steadily. She stood proudly before the King, Elion, and Narothe, dressed in the plain gray robes of a prisoner.

"You are a Keyblade Master." The King continued.

"Yes." Renae nodded.

"Then what would explain your—abnormal—behaviour as one?" The King leaned forward in his throne, scrutinizing the woman.

"Nothing, because it is not abnormal in the first place, your Majesty." Renae replied with stiff politeness.

"The Inverse Kingdom Key was wielded for the Good. For the Light. It has never been a weapon of Darkness." The King reasoned.

"Your Majesty, I am afraid you are gravely mistaken. The physical manifestation of the Keyblade's powers depends on where it is found. The Inverse Keyblade is a weapon of Darkness." Renae explained calmy. "Just as how the Keyblade is used is dependent on the wielder's heart. Even the Prophecy says so—the Keyblade wielder may bring prosperity or ruin, or both, to his time."

"A realm must fall into chaos and ruin before it can be rebuilt, to destroy all possibilities of evil. Those fighting for the Good are part of what destroys the realm as well, for they are part of the conflict." The King stood up from his throne and descended the small dais. Elion and Narothe followed close behind.

"There are many kinds of 'chaos and ruin', your Majesty." Renae said quietly.

"And you?" The King stopped a few paces away from Renae, regarding her critically. "What kind of heart controls your Keyblade of Darkness? Will you be the one to bring your time to that other 'chaos and ruin'?"

Renae's eyes met the King's. "Never."

"Then why are you consorting with the Darkspots?" The King asked bluntly.

"Because I am one." Renae answered.

"The Darkspots worship, _believe in _the Darkness." The King stated.

"Correct."

"They are responsible for many wrongdoings in this World."

"Because sometimes we cannot help it."

"Yet when you can, you still do it."

"Yes. I hate those kinds of people as much as you do, Your Majesty. Just like we want to bring justice to criminals and villains alike."

"You sound as if there is a difference."

"There is."

The King and Renae stared at each other for a few moments.

"Is there?" The King asked in soft doubt.

"For those willing to accept it, yes, Your Majesty." Renae answered firmly.

The King was silent again. Elion and Narothe glanced at each other.

"I can see that you will not give me an explanation for your actions." The King began again.

"I already have." Renae replied.

"You believe that Darkness is the beginning and end of all things? That Darkness is the essence of Kingdom Hearts?" The King asked, and Renae nodded.

"Darkness is the beginning, from which Light is born and lives in harmony with the Darkness." Renae said, and Elion caught her gaze as she spread her focus. "And in the end, the Light will return to Darkness to begin again."

The King frowned. "There was Light in the beginning, there is Light now, and there will always be Light. It will triumph over the Darkness that threatens to swallow it, and go on forever."

"If that is so, then we are truly doomed, Your Majesty." Renae said quietly.

"You believe that evil must exist and be the death and mother of Goodness?" The King asked, "You have that little faith in the Light, so little that you believe it must be born of and strengthen from extreme suffering from evil?"

"No, I do not believe evil should exist. And I believe that Goodness is inborn, and can grow strong without bounds, evil or no evil."

"Darkness _is_ evil."

"There is a difference within the Darkness. We have been talking about the same and the different things, Your Majesty."

The King clamped his lips together in a thin, stern line. Finally, after several heavy moments, he made a motion with his hands. Immediately, Elion and Narothe came forward.

"This talk is futile, and obviously you will not yield to your crime," He waved his hand lightly in dismissal. "Take her away."

Elion and Narothe bowed, Narothe deeper than his friend, and stepped forward to Renae, True Keyblades materializing in their hands.

Once the throne room disappeared behind the heavy doors, Elion nodded to Narothe, and the trio turned away from the direction of the dungeons. Walking briskly through carpeted corridors and up flights of stairs, they came at last to a wooden door, whose lock Elion opened.

Once in the room, Elion closed and locked the door. Releasing Renae, he took a few steps towards his desk before turning to face her. Beside her, Narothe dropped his hand as well.

"We are on equal ground here, all Keyblade Masters. Whatever you tell us here, we will not use against you or anyone associated with you, including the Darkspots. That being said, will you tell us why you fought for the Darkspots?" Elion asked placidly.

"I have told your father the reason already." Renae said, and Elion saw her brow loosen from an unseen frown.

"You don't _really_ believe those things, do you?" Narothe asked before Elion could continue. "All those things about the Darkness."

"And why shouldn't I? I am a Shadow-kin."

"Is that what you call yourselves?" Elion spoke again.

Renae nodded.

"Were you converted?" Elion continued, "And if so, by whom?"

"No," Renae answered. "I was born one."

"I see. It is understandable then, why you would fight for them," Elion said. "And since you said that you hated criminals, I assume that you understand why we arrested you."

"Perfectly." Renae replied.

"So the rumors about the Darkspots being behind the Heartless attack—that was real?" Narothe asked.

"The Festival of Darkness has _nothing_ to do with the Heartless. We live in Radiant Garden as well, and over half of us live on the outskirt area. Why direct an attack in which we will be the first hit and the hardest hit?" A vehement look flickered in Renae's eyes.

"Logical," Elion nodded. "Then who were the ones that perpetuated this rumor?"

"Those prejudiced against the Darkness—Darkspots that turned to evil—who knows?" Renae answered with a slight shrug.

"What's the Festival of Darkness about then?" Narothe asked.

"A celebration in honor of the Darkness." Renae answered plainly after a moment of hesitation. Narothe snorted exasperatingly.

"I know that, but what about the proceedings?" He asked.

"You seem quite eager to learn about it." One corner of Elion's mouth pulled upwards. All at once, Narothe suddenly looked embarrassed and ashamed.

"My father—he said he'd take the whole family to one someday. Said that was where he met my mother, back when they still allowed some number of people who weren't Darkspots--Shadow-kin, that is--to attend," Narothe paused. "That was before—before he turned bad."

"You are a Shadow-kin?" Renae asked, raising one eyebrow.

"No," Narothe shuffled his feet slightly, self-consciously. "Half—my father. I'm Narothe, by the way."

Renae rolled her eyes slightly, " 'Shado-kin' isn't a gene, nor is it a different race of people, Narothe. It is a belief, a religion if you want to call it that way."

"You said yourself that you were born a Shadow-kin." Elion pointed out.

Renae looked at him for a few moments, before sighing slightly, "I have—I suppose we have come to think ourselves as a different race then, being so different from other in what beliefs we follow and practice." She paused, and allowed a tight smile to emerge on her face. "You are observant—Prince Elion."

"Again, we are on equal ground, so there is no need for you to call me that," Elion replied.

"Well since we're on equal ground then, would you mind divulging the secrets of your mysterious Festival of Darkness? Or would you be murderously killed in some cult execution if you said a single word?" Narothe asked again. Elion snorted in soft amusement.

The small smile appeared on Renae's face again, slightly loosened from its tight guardedness. "No, I don't mind, and no, I will not be killed in a 'cult execution'. It is no secret, but not many people want to know about it."

"Take a seat then," Elion said, circling his desk to sit down at the high-back chair. "The interrogation will take some time." He nodded towards a couch in the room, in front of a large shelf, with an inviting smile.

"Your father expects me back in the dungeons," Renae suddenly said, still standing. "If he decides that he must discuss something with you and comes here, what will you say?"

"My father knows you are here—I asked him if Narothe and I could have our own discussion with you after he had finished, to see if we could find out anything more about the Heartless attack, or you. We are, after all, Keyblade Masters."

"So you will tell your father then, all that I have said and will say." Renae said after a pause.

"I will tell him that you have been a Shadow-kin since childhood, and it was logical that you defend those you had associated closely for your whole life. Then I will tell him that the rumors about the Shadow-kin being the perpetuators of the Heartless attack were started either by those who are extremely prejudiced against the Shadow-kin, or byShadow-kin who may have turned to the Heartless," Elion explained. "Is that fine by you?"

"Yes," Renae nodded, then frowned slightly. "Your father will not understand the second part."

"Still, it is information he wants to know, and I will tell him nonetheless. What he makes of it is up to him, and I have no say unless he brings it out into discussion with his council, of which I am a member," Elion sighed. "After all, I am prejudiced against the Shadow-kin myself, because I only know one side of them and do not understand the rest enough to make a judgment," He gestured to the couch, and Narothe's slightly impatient expression. "Care to enlighten us?" He asked.

Narothe jerked his head slightly to the seat beside him on the large couch.

After a tense moment—_when it seemed as if she would not trust us after all, and I feared that I placed too much value on the fact that we were all Keyblade Masters, and assumed that simply because of that she would tell us more—_Renae nodded.

"I would be happy to." She said with an acquiescing smile, and began.

---

_Was it complicated?_ Riku wrote curiously. _The Festival?_ He looked outside, and saw the shadow the cave entrance cast, longer than he last checked.

_No—actually, it was quite simple; so simple that Narothe seemed a little disappointed when Renae finished._ Elion's words answered. _The Festival of Darkness was held annually, after the autumn harvesting time. Each festival starts with someone reciting the two main beliefs of the Shadow-kin: **Darkness is the beginning of all life, and all life shall return to Darkness in the end to begin anew; Darkness is in all Hearts of the Universe, and is the essence of Kingdom Hearts**. After a few words involving recent events surrounding the Shadow-kin, which vary each year of course, the festivities start with a dance named 'Torin, Darel, and Allie'. Torin was, apparently, someone in the long line of Chosens of the Inverted Kingdom Key. He fought mostly in the Darkness for the Light, and tried hard to make everyone see that not all Darkness is bad. In a time of oncoming evil, equated with Darkness, openly advertising one's support for the 'goodness' in Darkness was perhaps not the best idea, since no one thought such a concept existed. In the end, he was prosecuted as a traitor and killed. His older brother, Darel, became the Keyblade Master of the Darkness, and continued his brother's fight._

_And what happened to him?_

_It was recorded that Torin's Time was saved, so the Shadow-kin would like to believe that Darel survived and spread the Shadow-kin beliefs._

_And who is Allie?_

_Torin and Darel's younger sister and the Keyblade Master of Light. She believed in Torin's words, naturally. _

_And what happened to her?_

_The Shadow-kin believed she survived as well, though the death of her brother and fellow Keyblade Master, Torin, was so traumatic to her that at one point the Darkness of her grief and hate for the murders nearly consumed her, and made her Heartless. Darel saved her._

_So this dance tells that story?_

_No, the Shadow-kin know that story well enough. There were many exploits recorded of this trio of siblings; think of this as another version of the exploits of the Mickey line of Disney. The dance was based on and builds on their fighting styles, using staffs with elaborate heads as substitute for the Keyblade. The dance steps were not written down anywhere, but rather passed on from generation to generation, each one taking away and adding new motions, slowly changing the dance through time. However, the basic routine of the dance was kept untouched._

_Interesting._ Riku wrote thoughtfully. _Then what?_

_After the dance, the people were left to mingle amongst themselves. There were other dances sometimes, and music, as well as food. This was also apparently a popular time to be confessing your feelings to someone you love, or even propose._

_Have you been to one?_

_Only once, though I wish I could have gone more. Itwas a fun festival, and not trying to coerce non-believers at all._

Riku leaned against the cave wall for a while, staring at the glowing plants hanging from the ceiling, before writing again. _Darkness is the beginning and the end, exists in everything, and is the essence of Kingdom Hearts, huh? I think I can understand that a little._

_You are of the Twilight, and perhaps that is why. It took me a long time to understand._

_I was afraid though._ _Still afraid a little bit, actually. _Riku wrote simply.

_We all were—even those that understood, like the Shadow-kin and Renae._

---

_I spoke to my father about what Renae had told us, exactly as I had recited to her. Finding her rationale reasonable, my father pardoned Renae from her supposed crime. She was allowed to roam the castle grounds freely, given that she did not leave the castle itself. Of course, she could have very easily escaped, so my father offered her a deal—as long as she did not leave the castle, and helped to find out who was behind the rumors, no bodily harm would come to the Shadow-kin that are arrested. Renae agreed, if only for the ensured safety of the prisoners. My father asked if Renae would like to visit her parents before this confinement—I found out then that her parents were long dead in another World, victims of a hate crime, and whoever had done it was likely dead, judging from what she had seen of that World's justice system. She was therefore fine with staying within the castle premises._

_Asking her to help with the interrogation made her more uncomfortable. She confided in Narothe and I, once when we accompanied her to the dungeons, that she could sense no one who had been corrupted enough to gain control of the Heartless. Of course, my father was determined to find the criminal amongst the Shadow-kin, or at least a most likely scapegoat. After all, sympathy was bound to bubble in some people when they found out that a group of innocent people had been arrested for a rumor that no one in there started, despite the fact that they were the Shadow-kin. My father—or if not my father, then the councilors—would not take that chance. Since the ability to 'sense' a Heartless controller belonged to the Keyblade Masters alone, Renae was forced to talk to the imprisoned Shadow-kin, as if she were really interrogating._

_Days went on habitually, and Narothe and I went about our established routine. Most of the times, Renae could be found either in the dungeons, or sparring with us. She had her meals in her own room, and that was almost the only purpose that room served. Many times, she went to the dungeons at night to talk to the Shadow-kin, and ended up asleep in one of the cells when she asked the guards to let her in—they knew better to argue with her. Usually, when Narothe and I went to find her, she was in the cell with Kantl and a little boy—Gaddalor. I was quick to make my way out of the dungeons before either woke up, leaving Narothe to wake Renae for breakfast._

_The day the wind seemed to bite a little more, as I exited the dungeon from finding Renae there one morning again, I remembered. I doubled back to the area where the cells were, and called out for them._

"Where are we going?" Asked Narothe curiously as Elion led them speedily through the entrance courtyard.

"I can't leave." Renae said, stopping at the gates.

"There is something I want to show you both," Elion replied. "Something I promised to show to the other two Keyblade Masters once I have met them," He turned to the gatekeepers. "Open the gates!" He ordered.

"But, Your Highness, the King—" One of the gatekeepers called hesitantly. Elion stared at the gatekeeper for a moment; glancing around the courtyard, he caught sight of a servant.

"Give the King this message from me: I am going to show Narothe and Renae what is underneath the research facilities." He ordered. The gatekeeper's eyes widened upon hearing.

"There. Now please, open the gates," Elion turned to the gatekeeper. The gatekeeper glanced at Renae uneasily.

"Think of her as another Keyblade Master." Elion said quickly. The gatekeeper stared at Renae for a moment more, before turning to lower the gates warily.

"Thank you." Elion nodded gratefully at the man, and led the three of them almost at a jog out of the castle, towards the research facilities and academy just a few streets away.

"What's under the research facilities?" Narothe asked as they stopped at the entrance.

"A mystery," Elion answered cryptically, and pushed open the doors. "Good morning, Roan. Would you allow us access to the stone basement?"

"Good morning, my Prince. And your friends as well?" The receptionist asked. "May I assume that they are Keyblade Masters then?"

"Yes. Yes, they are."

"I see," the receptionist's curiously tilted expression met Renae's stoic face.

"Ah," exclaiming awkwardly, the receptionist reached into a small drawer and drew out a card. "Here you go, Your Highness."

As they prepared to leave, Roan stopped them. "Ah, Your Highness—are you sure, bringing a Darkspot there—"

"She is a Darkspot, but also the Keyblade Master of Darkness. Do not worry; the King has been alerted to this." Elion explained quickly, and strode briskly away before Roan could answer.

The metal door was at the bottom of a short flight of stairs, the only one going downfrom the main floor. Sliding the cardthrough a protruding slot, Elion led Narothe and Renae through the threshold, the polished marble floor beneath their feet cutting away to roughly cut, wide stone stairs. Lining the walls near the ceiling, were built-in, golden-yellow lights. After several sharp spirals downwards, the three came suddenly to an end, the wall just as roughly hewn, marked by scars left by attacking weaponry. In the center of the wall, faint grooves outlined the shape of a keyhole the size of a hand.

The Kingdom Key flashed into existence; Elion enjoyed the moment of sudden heaviness in his hand and the sudden flow of power through his body. He reached out, picking the gathering dirt from the grooves, and lifted the true Keyblade to point towards the keyhole.

A current of power sped through Elion's heart, and he felt it receding into the Kingdom Key, emitting a bluish-light at the tip. One moment later the light concentrated into a laser-like ray, hitting the keyhole mark in the center. Spreading, the light flowed through the grooves, then through unseen cracks in the wall, forming a brilliant, irregular, and jagged web. As soon as the rivers of light reached the edges of the wall, the light dissolved into particles, splashing out of their courses and washing the rock away with them.

"What is this?" Narothe asked quietly as the trio entered a spacious stone cavern, crossing over a stone bridge. Once across, Elion turned, and pointed his Keyblade at another keyhole groove on the top of the doorway. The lights flooded out of the groove, drained down the rim of the entrance, and snaked into the air, reforming the sealing rock.

"This is—" Renae knelt down at the edge of the stone they stood on, running around the room in a thick, ringed shape. She tentatively touched the surface of the glowing, cornflower-blue water, as it bubbled continuously, flowing by some unknown force around the edge of the chamber. Cupping her hand, she scooped out some of the bubbles, and watched it sink rapidly into her hand. "Magus Spheres?"

"What?" Narothe's eyebrows rose in confusion.

"Magic bubbles, yes," Elion nodded. Narothe's mouth opened slightly in surprise.

"And that?" Renae stood up, shaking her hands slightly. The excess water bounced off, bouncing softly on the ground as seemingly solid bubbles until they sank into the stone.

Elion glanced in the direction Renae was looking. Ahead of them, a bridge led past a ring of stalactites and stalagmites, each the approximate length of the Keyblade but far from close to each other, into a central, circular stone platform. From the top of the stalagmites, a viridian, thick substance continuously oozed out, rolling down the sides, clumping together in the narrow valleys between the stone before melting into the ground. The stalactites were dripping with the same substance as well at various speeds.

"And Core Nectar," Renae continued. "Life bubbles."

"Correct." Elion replied. Narothe knelt by one of the stalagmites, scooping up one of the clumps of glowing spheres on the ground. It melted, coating his hand before sinking in.

"And these are all—natural?" Renae asked. Elion nodded.

"This is just a small reserve, left alone in peace because no one could reach here but us," Elion explained above the quiet gurgle of the outer river. "There are larger ones, some remote and some easier to access, used as raw materials for potions, ethers, and other stronger versions."

"I thought they only came from hearts?" Narothe asked.

"The Heart is just another natural source," Elion replied. "It cannot go on forever, but it can be increased over time unlike sources of the land, through training." He turned towards the second bridge. "This way, there is something you must see."

Narothe and Renae followed him across the bridge past the ring of stalagmites and stalactites, coming to the central platform. There, resting on a pedestal was a Keyblade. Obsidian black, its bat-wing-design guard was outlined by a monochrome shine. The handle itself was silver, as well as the anchor of the chain extending down the length of the blade and the spear-like design at the tip. A dark purple diamond, lined in yellow, adorned the hilt.

"An incomplete Keyblade?" Renae asked quietly.

"No. A true one, only its Keychain is gone, for some reason." Elion ran his hand over the gathering dust on the blade. The weapon glowed purple-blue for a few sputtering moments.

"What's its name?" Narothe asked, a slight reverence in his voice.

Elion looked at the Keyblade for a moment before answering, "Oblivion."

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Again, apologies for the insane length. Comments, criticisms, and suggestions welcome, as well as any questions. The two rivers found within the cavern where Oblivion is located in this story isone of magic bubbles (blue bubbles that appear in the game when the player defeats an enemy) and life bubbles (green ones left behind by a defeated enemy). 


End file.
